Disclaimer—See Chapter One

A/N: I am much relieved to hear that people are enjoying the more "dramatic" side of this story, as well as the humorous side from the earlier chapters.  I am trying very hard to maintain a mix of humor with the more tense moments, and of course I always have to include some Bren/Shal moments as well!  So I thank you again so much for your feedback, and I hope you continue to let me know what you think!  Thank you!!

Of Wind and Wood—Chapter Nine

For a few minutes, she laid contented, oblivious to the chilly wind ripping through the air or the murmuring of their group, wandering aimlessly along the bank. But finally, her tired ears picked up the faint wheezing breaths coming from underneath her. Startled, she pulled back to stare into Brennan's eyes. He looked dazed and shivered at the loss of contact. It dawned on her that they were both wet, and that they were lying in mud, and that the air had cooled considerably. Rebuking herself for her stupidity, she pushed her exhausted body up into a standing position, reaching down and bracing Brennan's shoulders.

"Come on, Bren," she encouraging, huffing as she pulled him to his feet.  "We've got to get into dry clothes."

"I don't know if I'll ever feel warm again," Brennan rasped as he staggered to his feet, teeth involuntarily chattering. Groaning, he leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees. Shalimar hovered over him nervously, tugging on his arm.

"Gimme a minute, Shal," he muttered, chest heaving as he sucked in air. She watched, amazed, as he seemed to catch his breath with each deep pull of air into his lungs. He forced himself to breathe deeply and slowly until his head stopped spinning and his stomach felt like his own again. After a moment, he forced his body upright, sighing in relief as Shalimar ducked under him to lend support.

Together, they staggered down the bank and back towards their raft.  Shalimar propped him against a tree before darting back to grasp both of their packs. She talked briefly with Ana before returning to where she left him.

"We're very lucky," she informed him, dropping the packs on the ground and rummaging through them, "a lot of people lost their gear. Ana and the other guide are taking a quick inventory." She pulled out thick, warm clothes for both of them. He watched as she pulled her wet shirt over her head, frowning as he noticed Ben's eyes swiveling towards them.

"Shal," he muttered, draping a blanket over her shoulders.

"Since when do you care about modesty?" she shook her head, turning her back to the group and dropping her wet jeans to the ground and pulling on a dry pair, blanket billowing over her like a cape.

He laughed at her, bending over as his chest racked with deep coughs. She was at his side in an instant, hands warm on his back.

"I'm ok," he assured between coughs, cursing at his weakness. She pulled a towel out of the pack, pushing him back to the ground and pulling his shirt over his head, running the towel over his upper body. He shivered, and she threw him a warm sweatshirt, which he gratefully pulled on. Stepping between his legs, she scrubbed his dripping hair with the towel.

"We've got to get you warm," she chattered, "I can't have you getting sick on me, not out here." She vigorously dug her fingers into his scalp through the towel.

"Shal," he winced.

She ignored him, continuing with her ministrations. "I don't know what I'd do if you got sick," she repeated under her breath, "I can't—I can't risk that.  I can't risk losing you." He caught the hitch in her voice and wrapped his hands around her forearms, stilling her movements.

"Shalimar."

Her face crumbled against her will, and he pulled her tightly into his arms.

"Hey, it's alright," he soothed. "I'm right here." He kissed the top of head as she buried her face in his shoulder. "I'm right here."

Her arms tightened their hold on his neck, and he rubbed his hands down her back in gentle circles. "I'm not going anywhere."

She hiccupped into his shoulder, and he gently pulled back, framing her wet cheeks with his large hands. He kissed her nose and each trembling eyelid that slid shut under his touch.

"Sorry," she kept her eyes closed, voice small.

"No, Shal," he entreated, tipping her chin up towards him and placing a gentle kiss on her lips, "Never be sorry. Not for caring."

Her hands rose to cup over his, eyes capturing his in grateful understanding. She graced him with a shaky smile, and he couldn't resist leaning down and brushing his lips against hers in another soft gesture. He pulled back slightly, but she leaned up, lips closing over his again and again with soft butterfly kisses. 

Ana's voice calling them all to gather together finally broke them apart.  Brennan groaned and gave her one final kiss before pushing himself back up to his feet. Shalimar grabbed both their packs, and they joined the rest of their group in a semi-circle on the river bank.

Ana grimly held up her hands for silence, "We were all very fortunate today," she glanced around the group.  "No lives were lost."  

"What happened?"  Denise, the woman Brennan had rescued, asked in a shrill voice, a sleeping bag around her shoulders.

Shalimar noticed out of the corner of her eye that Ben perked up at this question, turning quick eyes to the guide that had steered the paddle raft.   The man looked away, staring off into the trees as Ana answered for him. 

"It is a situation we try very hard to ignore, and up until now," she paused as she glanced at the guide, "my company has had a perfect record.  But rapids are unpredictable, and accidents can happen to anyone at anytime."

Brennan's hands tightened reassuringly on Shalimar's shoulders as she leaned back into him.  "Where do we stand now?"  He caught Ana's attention. 

She frowned gravely.  "Five people have lost their gear, swept away in the current.  Half of our food supply was also in that raft, and much of it was ruined."  Her lips pressed together.  "Also, the raft was gouged by the rock, and has a large gash in it." 

Murmurs swept through the small group. 

"But," she continued, "We still have our Oar boat, and that is large enough to carry all of us.  It will be a full load, but we can do it.  We also still have our fishing equipment and enough dry goods to last if we ration a bit.  We'll be eating plainly from now on, but we won't starve."  She smiled at them, "And we'll have to share clothing and bedding with those that lost their gear, but I know we can work together and make do.  For now, I think we need to build some fires and get everything dried out, so we can continue on our way in the morning." 

Heads nodded in agreement.

"And Brennan," she turned towards him, "since you did such a good job last time, I'd like you to be in charge of the camp fires."

He smirked at Shalimar as she turned to him with raised brows.  "No problem." 

"Great," Ana enthused, "And you can share your secret with some of the others here, teach them how to light a fire as well." 

Brennan blanched as Shalimar laughed outright at his expression.  Ana didn't notice however as she continued to hand out assignments.  The little group broke up, and soon the camp started to take shape.  Brennan quickly gathered wood and lit it up while no one was looking.  Shalimar shook her head at him as she approached, a bucket of freshly picked huckleberries in her hand. 

"Don't say it," he waggled his finger at her as she squatted by the fire, holding her hands out to the flame, warming herself.  He sat down next to her, studying her face. 

"Been eating more than you were picking, huh?" his eyes tenderly lit up as he traced a finger around her berry-stained lips. 

She grinned, swatting his finger away, eyes not moving from the fire.

"You ok, Shal?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "I was just looking at the fire, thinking how it's my weakness, like water is yours." 

His brows furrowed together, not understanding her. 

She turned to him. "I don't know if I could have done the same thing that you did today, with that water.  What if it had been fire?  Would I have been able to do the same?" 

"Shal—"

"No, Bren, I'm serious.  I sit by this little fire, and I feel unnerved.  You jumped into a raging river without any hesitation." 

"Shal," he pulled her close to him, "You would do the same.  You have done the same.  And I know you'll do the same again if ever in such a situation." He smiled down at her. "It's the same for both of us, love wins over fear."

She twined their fingers together, leaning her head on the crook of his shoulder.  She loved the way their bodies seemed to fit together so perfectly, as if they were made to be together.

"Thanks." 

"Anytime," he pressed a long kiss to her forehead. 

Their group ate in relative silence that evening, as shock and tiredness began to set in.  One by one, they turned in early.  Shalimar saw Ben watching her from across the campfire, but was too tired to wait around to see what he wanted, so she drew Brennan up with her and back to their little tent.  He was still coughing sporadically, and she was worried about him.

The evening sky was darkening overhead, and Shalimar smelled coming rain even as Brennan raised his hand and showed her the strong electrical current that was in the air.  Another storm was coming.  Brennan huffed as she double checked their rain cover and sealed seams, but she laughed at his expression, not willing to take any chances of a repeat performance.  Once satisfied they would remain dry for the night, she crawled inside.  They had donated one of their sleeping bags to another couple that had lost their gear, so they unzipped their remaining bag and spread it across them like a giant blanket, turning their borrowed lantern down low.

"We should have done this sooner," Shalimar murmured, cuddling close to Brennan.

"No kidding," he snorted, "stuffing ourselves into separate sleeping bags isn't the most romantic of situations." 

She laughed as he leaned over her, lifting her hands behind his neck and bringing his mouth down to hers.  He sank down into her arms with a guttural moan as she deepened the kiss, fingers tangling in her damp hair. 

Rain drops fell softly at first, then with an increasing staccato as wind whipped water down from the heavens.  Heavy clouds, swollen with rain, blocked the moonlight and hid the figure outside the row of tents, standing with shoulders hunched against the cold, eyes intently watching the flickering shadows from within one small tent.

Early the next morning, Shalimar shot upright, heart pounding in her chest.  "Blood," she whispered, eyes turning towards Brennan in alarm.